No Car Go
by NativeStar
Summary: Pre series. Soon after Sam leaves for Stanford Dean finds himself alone. Written for spnthurnights drabble request. Words of prompt: Grease, pretty girl, engine trouble.


Title: No Car Go  
Rating: PG-3 or K+  
Word Count: 1,272  
Warnings: None  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Summary: Pre series. Soon after Sam leaves for Stanford Dean finds himself alone. Written for spnthursnights drabble request on LJ for starrylizard. Words of prompt: Grease, pretty girl, engine trouble.

A/N: The drabble spawned a ficlet. No beta due to lack of time so all mistakes are mine (please feel free to point them out!). I haven't posted anything without a beta for while...is slightly scared

* * *

It happened out of the blue. 

One minute he was following his father's truck, the next the Impala was clunking and clicking her way to a stand still.

"No, don't do this to me, baby!" Dean moaned, using the dwindling momentum to edge the car to the side of the road. He turned the key in the ignition and watched helplessly as John's truck disappeared into the distance. The engine groaned and protested and refused to start.

"Please, come on. Don't fail me now." Dean pleaded. He turned to the passenger seat, belatedly remembering the person he had been about to speak to was a couple hundred miles away. Dean wondered how long it would take before he stopped turning to the passenger seat with _Sam_ frozen on his lips. _Evidently longer than a week._

Dean let his head fall forward to rest on the steering wheel. He gave it one last try. Nothing. He sighed. "You too, huh?"

John still hadn't realised his son was no longer following him. Dean absently wondered if his father would realize before or after he reached the next hunt.

Wearily he pushed opened the door and moved to the front of the car, lifting up the hood. The cool fall breeze caused goose bumps to break out on his arms, as he rolled his sleeves up, and he zipped his jacket up fully. Reaching into the engine he hoped this at least would be something he could fix himself.

* * *

John found Dean under the hood half an hour later. 

"Thanks for noticing, Dad."

"Why didn't you call?"

"Don't have new phone yet." The black dog on the last hunt had smashed his to pieces and a little misunderstanding with the local law enforcement had meant they'd left the same night, leaving no time for shopping trips to cell phone stores.

Realization crept into John's voice. "Right. Forgot about that." He stood behind Dean, looking down at the engine where Dean's greasy hands rested. Dean could feel the warm tickle of his father's breath on his neck. "Figured out what's wrong with her?"

"Yeah, gonna need a new part. She's not going anywhere without it."

"I'll call for a tow."

* * *

The garage was small but well run and much to Dean's surprise, owned by a young woman. Kirsty was slim, fresh faced and had her short blonde hair scraped back into a ponytail from which a few strands had rebelliously escaped. She'd taken a quick look at the Impala when it had been towed in and quickly agreed with Dean's assessment, earning extra brownie points when she complimented the car and it's well kept condition. Unfortunately, the replacement part was out of stock, the delivery not due till tomorrow. 

Dean had just given the news to John who stood, hands shoved into pockets looking uncomfortable. He was itching to leave; Dean could sense it, a subtle vibration in his body. He felt it himself, the pull of the hunt, he was hungry for the rush of adrenaline that would eclipse all else. John looked past his truck and down the road twice before turning back to Dean and speaking.

"Poltergeists won't wait for cars to be fixed, son."

"I know."

"I have to go."

"Yes, sir."

"You'll be alright." It wasn't a question, and at twenty two did Dad really need to ask?

"Fine." Dean said, injecting slight offence into his answer. It was what his father was looking for, the reassurance and absolution to go do his job. John nodded once and opened the door to his truck.

Dean turned around, walking back to the garage as he heard the engine start behind him. He stopped at the garage's wall and leant against it casually. The road from the garage was straight with a junction a hundred yards down. Traffic was heavy and it took John several minutes to get out from the junction. Dean watched the whole time until the red of the truck's break lights was just a memory burned on his retinas.

Kirsty returned a minute later to let him know what time to come pick up the car. A smudge of grease now highlighted her left cheek. Dean had to stop himself from instinctively rubbing it off, years of rubbing chocolate and jam off a chubby face deeply ingrained in him.

"I can recommend a good motel down the road." She offered.

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."

"And uh, I know all the good places in town."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, so if you find yourself bored or something tonight?" There was something in her posture, the way her eyes dipped to the floor before meeting his that told Dean she didn't make this offer very often.

"Right, uh, thanks." Dean wasn't sure he'd make for good company right now. He just wasn't in the mood.

"Sorry, I didn't mean – "

"No, it's ok." He rushed to reassure her. "I'll…keep it in mind." He flashed her a grin and listened as she gave him directions to the motel.

* * *

Dean lay on the bed closest to the door. He hadn't even realised he'd done it until he'd opened the door and saw the two queen sized beds. He'd checked his receipt before he finally admitted he must have asked for the room. 

_Old habits die hard. _Dean snorted. _Just like Winchesters._

The room was cold and sounds echoed off the walls, it felt empty, too big for one person to fill. The extra bed only served to remind Dean of absent family. No John. No Sam. Just Dean.

He swiped his phone off the bed stand, quickly punching in numbers memorised only a few hours ago. It rang only once before it was picked up, catching Dean slightly off guard.

"Hey, Kirsty. It's Dean." He sat up and swung his legs off the bed.

"No, I'm not calling about the car."

"Are you still up for a few drinks tonight?"

"Yeah? That's great."

"I'm at Pineview motel, eight o'clock ok?"

"Great, I'll see you later."

Dean snapped the phone shut and the motel room was silent until eight o'clock.

* * *

They'd only had two drinks before returning to the room. The door slammed shut behind them as Dean pressed Kirsty up against it. Her lips on his. His hands on her. He lifted her top and slid it up her body. Breaking their kiss for the briefest of moments as he pulled it over her head. He spun her around and they staggered back onto the bed. Dean was hungry for her touch and she was more than willing to give it.

* * *

Dean lay on his side, staring at the empty bed. Behind him Kirsty shifts, moving closer to his back, her heat warming the length of his body. Dean can hear her breaths, it's a reassuring familiarity and for a moment he shuts his eyes and tries to convince himself it's Sam. But the rhythm is all wrong, it's faster, shallower and the illusion shatters. 

Tomorrow the car will be fixed and he'll join his dad at the job. With any luck John won't have dispatched the poltergeist yet and he'll actually have something to hunt. He needs something to hunt. But right now, in the dark hours of the night, with no one but a stranger for company he can admit to himself if no one else. He misses Sam, he misses his family and their screwed up way of life, the way it used to be. Because even though it wasn't normal, it was all he'd ever known and loved.

He wasn't alone but he had never _felt_ so alone.

* * *

_**Fin**_

Reviews are loved and constructive criticism is appreciated. :)


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